I guess I can start this off by saying that I’ve seen the tattoo on Sebastian that he was talking about. It isn’t as glorious as seeing Sebastian’s ass itself, but it’s nice to have a little comic relief once in a while, right?
Sebastian is sleeping soundly next to me, completely naked. We’ve ravaged the covers of his bed into nothing but a sheet and a couple of pillows—this said sheet only covering a portion of Sebastian’s body.
I’ve never been so exhausted. Is this what it’s like to not have sex for a year, then jump back in with the most incredible sex you’ve ever had in your life? Seriously, Sebastian’s dick puts Hudson’s to shame; I was a dead fish underneath that disgusting man. But now I’m sore between my legs for the first time.
I’ll admit, I’m being the cliché creep who is watching someone sleep at the moment. But it’s hard to peel your eyes away from a man such as Sebastian with only a cover over the lower part of his body to keep him decent. His back rises and falls slowly; gently. The muscles of his torso contract with every breath he takes. When I trace a finger on his spine, he moans a bit and stirs in his sleep.
What am I thinking? I’m sure he doesn’t like to be touched this way after sleeping with someone. He’s used to fucking and leaving without anything more, yet here I am, lying next to him in his bed like I want something more. Which I do—I want badly for him to fuck me again. Or me fuck him, depending on if I’m confident enough to take him the way he took me.
Carefully, I get out of bed and search around for my clothes. I’m ass-naked too, of course. And it’s not like Sebastian hasn’t seen me this way, but I wouldn’t want this view to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.
I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, though.
Defeated and in a hurry to cover myself, I opt for a t-shirt I find in a dresser drawer by Sebastian’s bed. It’s a plain dark-blue t-shirt that can barely make it over the entangled mess of my wild hair, but when it’s finally over my body, it’s big enough to reach about mid-thigh.
I leave his room and take slow steps down the hallway. Not because I don’t want to make any noise, but because my legs and hips are killing me. And so is my neck and the sensitive skin around my nipples.
The house has an odd echo when I’m in the living room. This place is huge and Sebastian wakes up here every morning by himself? It’s easier now for me to understand why he likes the company of other people so much, but at the same time it isn’t the type of company he wishes he always had.
When I’m in the kitchen, I see a coffee maker and decide to make a cup. I’m still in a bit of shock that Sebastian and I actually had sex last night; my mind is buzzing, and a smile creeps up on my lips when I remember the details. The sinful details, rather. I swear I was only supposed to be over here for dinner—how did we end up naked?
I guess Sebastian Harrison has that effect on people.
I start the coffee maker after a minute of fumbling with the technology and reach up into the cupboard. Of course the cups are out of my reach, and there’s a cool draft that tickles my exposed legs when I try to grab it—one that I don’t think much of.
Finally, I make my cup of coffee (black, two sugars, as always) and sip carefully. The cool air still touches my legs, but it is soon replaced with the feeling of a warm body pressing against me. Sebastian wraps his arms around my waist securely, pulling me closer to him. I feel his bare torso against my back as his cheek rests against mine.
“You should wear my shirts more often,” he says in my ear; I realize that the shirt had risen past my ass a couple of minutes ago during my struggle with the high cupboard.
“How long have you been watching me try to maneuver around your kitchen?” I ask him gaily.
He leans in to kiss me, but I quickly step away from him.
“Nah-ah. Morning breath, remember?”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I brushed my teeth before I came down here. And besides, aren’t you the one with coffee breath now?”
I don’t answer, but instead give him a teasing stare over the rim of my cup.
He walks over to the coffee maker and starts making himself a brew. I lean against the island and stare at him. I think it’s easier for me now to express how gorgeous I think he is; it isn’t fair. Everything, from his eyes, to his smile, to his body is distracting. I study his strong side profile for a while; he leans his hands against the counter and watches the contents entering his cup. My eyes wander from his own eyes, to the accentuated muscles of his arms, the dimples on his lower back, all the way down to his sweats that sit ‘dangerously’ low on his hips. My fingers clench around my hot drink. Somehow, I think it’s too much of me to want him again.
When Sebastian sees me staring at him, he smiles at me. I feel a blush creeping up on my cheeks and turn the other way. When his cup is filled with coffee, he opens the fridge and pulls out creamer to add into his drink. And if I may add, he does add a lot of creamer.
For a minute, we drink our coffee in silence. It isn’t an awkward silence; it’s quite enjoyable actually.
“Have you checked your phone this morning?” I ask him; God, what an odd question.
His mood, once well, seems to darken when he realizes that I’ve mentioned something about work. “Yeah. Sarah texted me about going to some meeting Wednesday morning with a social media team to talk about my Instagram and Twitter and whatnot.”
“Well, that’s good! I’m sure that should be interesting. Come to think of it, maybe I should check my phone to see if I got anything about the interview you should be doing very soon.”
Sebastian scoffs before laughing quietly. I narrow my eyes.
“What is it?” I ask.
“You’re mind never stops, does it?”
I shake my head as an answer. He places his cup on the counter and walks towards me. And within a couple of seconds, he lifts me up and places me on the island. He situates his body between my legs and stares into my eyes—my heart beat quickens scarily.
“Can I get at least ten more minutes of pretending the outside world doesn’t exist?” he asks me.
Before I can answer, he plants his lips onto mine gently. We kiss, eventually escalating to him cradling my head in his hands as I let his tongue invade my mouth. The same sensations I felt last night occupy the pits of my stomach and my pussy—which, if I may add, is still recovering from Sebastian’s all too good familiarization of it.
Sebastian moves his hands from my face down to my legs and gropes my naked thighs. I shudder at his touch, even more so when his palms slide up my shirt and to my waist, where the waistband of my panties should be felt, if I were wearing any.
My hands run down his back, where I can feel the marks my nails left the night before underneath the pads of my fingers. He pushes the shirt up, like someone removing covers from a mattress, and exposes the rest of my thighs and the spot between my legs that is currently causing me the most torture; it’s embarrassing how wet I am right now.
His eyes avert down to my exposed lower body, smiling mischievously. I laugh at his expression; we both do, before he begins kissing, biting, sucking on the soft skin of my neck. I let out a forbidden moan at let my eyes wander to the ceiling behind closed eyelids, and shortly afterwards Sebastian slowly parts my thighs. I gasp; my skin is still sensitive down there.
“You’re a bit tender here?” Sebastian asks me; more like a statement than a question.
I honestly don’t know how to answer that. I don’t know how to speak really. I see how hard Sebastian is through his sweats and lose the ability to articulate words.
Sebastian caresses my legs one more time before crouching down in front of me. My breath hitches in my throat when he pulls my body closer to his mouth—
Hold on one moment. My apologies—I’ve gone way ahead of myself. I haven’t even explained what the events of last night were like. That’s what’s most important here, right? We can always come back to this afterwards.
I won’t torture you any further by making you put the pieces together in your head. I’ll begin where I left off.
When Sebastian so bluntly asked if I wanted him to fuck me, I was so stunned that the event was actually taking place that I couldn’t believe I said yes.
But I did. And when he began to unbutton my jeans, I knew for a fact it was real. I was propped up slightly on the pillows that decorated his bed, Sebastian hovering over me from the support of his arms. He unbuttoned my jeans, the zipper revealing the pale blue pair of lace panties I was wearing. The room shot up another ten degrees when I knew that he was staring at my underwear; there was a hunger in his eyes that made the slight throbbing of my pussy more prominent.
Sebastian slid off my jeans. It was then I realized how truly exposed I was. I clenched my thighs together; I remembered I had scars I intended on hiding. But now that there was a thin barrier keeping Sebastian from seeing them, it made my anxiety shoot through the goddamn roof. He saw the razor scars eventually, but it didn’t bother him the way I thought it would. His eyes leveled with mine, and I looked away, ashamed at what I had done to myself when I was a young, impressionable girl. But Sebastian proceeded to kiss my inner thighs as if they weren’t even there. Or as if they were there, and he was acknowledging it.
At this point, my underwear was practically soaked. And Sebastian knew this, too; he reveled in the fact that the mere image of him could make me so fucking wet; that it was all for him, and he weren’t even inside me yet.
I closed my eyes, occasionally arching my back when his mouth kissed dangerously close to where I truly wanted it. My breathing shortened; sweat dotted my neck and my face. I ran my fingers through his hair as he continued teasing me in the cruelest of ways. So much shit was happening at one time; his hands gripped my hips as if I were going to move away from him, my toes curled, my nipples were erect through my flimsy bra. Jesus, I just wanted him to fuck me already.
Sebastian stopped and stood up on his knees. His eyes and mine were never apart when he undid his jeans; popping the button and pulling down the zipper. I knew this wasn’t something new for him. But for me? Honestly so.
I can tell you that he was definitely hard when his pants came off; it turned me on even more knowing that I was the reason. We kissed again. I felt his erection on my thigh, and I ached for him inside me. Sebastian slipped off my blouse, and when I tell you that his eyes ogled my breasts, I mean it entirely. My breasts were almost popping out of my bra at this point, even more so at the fact that a Double-D sized bra cup will absolutely add a bit of depth.
His eyes were still staring at my chest, but more seriously. My breasts rose and fell with every breath, and his eyes followed. I took initiative and unhooked my bra, slipping it off my shoulders and throwing it to the side. At the moment, it seemed I was awaiting judgment from him at my half-naked body. I’m not the skinniest; nowhere near close. I have a fuller figure that I’ve never been proud of as much as I should be, and the fact that the women Sebastian associates himself with in this way all have slender figures made me wonder if he believed it was a mistake to even start this in the first place.
There was a look of distress on his face in the silence that we had. It made me even more insecure about being naked like this in front of him.
“You’re so damn sexy, Leslie,” Sebastian finally said—whispered, rather—before kissing my collarbone. “You’re too fucking perfect for me.”
Now, that right there changed everything. It made me see that after being so cautious of opening myself, it wasn’t necessary to be so cautious and scared anymore. I thought, “Sebastian actually likes me. Like, really likes me. Not how Hudson said he did so he could have a good lay and a girl to call his own. No—Sebastian really likes me.”
When he began putting my breast in his mouth, I moaned more sexually frustratingly than I ever had before. His tongue swirled generously around my nipple of one while his hand groped the other, massaging it in his large, rough palms.
We kissed passionately again. I slipped my hand through his briefs and slid them down, my hand suddenly touching his ass.
That’s when I looked up and saw his tattoo—we had a good laugh from that.
I slipped my own underwear off after that, but our bodies were so close—close enough for his body heat to be my own—that it didn’t make much of a difference. I saw the pained expression on his face; he wanted me as much as I wanted him. There was very little restraint left in him, and it made the future more unpredictable than I expected. It’s like throwing a severe alcoholic into a liquor store after weeks of being painfully sober. You shouldn’t expect them to have much self-control.
He reached over into his bedside table drawer until he had a condom in his hand. After the packaging was opened, he sheathed his dick with it. His eyes were to the ceiling when he put it on; his face wasn’t as serious. Just…emotionless. I watched him when he did this, revering his godly body in front of me; masculine, unrestricted. The moment he saw me looking at him, a seductive smile crossed his lips. I didn’t even blush after being discovered, because I wanted him to know how tantalizingly attractive he was to me.
Suddenly, he flipped me over on my belly and positioned himself behind me. I yelped a bit, and became even more nervous when Sebastian stripped the bed to nothing more than a sheet and a few pillows. I waited quietly; I felt his hand slowly glide down from my shoulders, down my back, then ending at my ass that he massaged so amply. I moaned loader, stuttering his name. Only he could make me hot and sweaty yet goose bump-ridden at the same time.
His lips kissed the same spot he just touched—from my shoulders, down my back. I dug my nails into the pillow I gripped over my chest, but when he undid my bun and let my hair free, I almost feared my nails would rip the damn pillow. And he knew how shocked I was that he did this; he knew what he was doing.
Sebastian ran his fingers through my curls. I was absolutely stupefied at that moment, unable to see anything but the headboard and so horny that I couldn’t stop clenching my thighs together to try to put the throbbing between my legs at ease. I gnawed painlessly on my bottom lip as his hands continued to wisp through my hair, but suddenly he grabbed my locks in his hand and gently tilted my head back with his grip. I gasped. My breathing was heavier, my hands were shaking, and I was so unbelievably turned on. Secretly, I wanted him to pull harder, but I was so dazed I couldn’t form words.
“You’re so wet, Leslie,” he said to me; the baritone in his voice made that particular situation worse. “Do you want me inside you, now?”
I nodded; words still failed me. But words were the last thing needed. He let go of my hair, ran his hands up my back one last time, then finally held my hips and slid himself into my pussy with one gradual movement. I gasped once I felt the tip of him in me, but eventually the entirety of his dick was inside of me, causing my toes to curl and my ass to involuntarily push up into his hips. One hand still on my side while the other held up his weight, Sebastian proceeded to fuck me just as he said he would. Slowly at first, gaining a rhythm and seeing how much I could handle, but ultimately with more momentum. I whimpered at every thrust; he made sure that I received every inch of him. My body rocked with the movement of his, and it was a feeling that was definitely filling, both in the physical and emotional sense. I was brought into a euphoria as he increased his tempo; I begged him to go faster for me.
Sebastian tried to conceal his sounds of pleasure, but a few grunts escaped his lips, followed by deep and quiet moans that turned me on profusely; a man’s moans of pleasure are possibly one of the hottest sounds to hear.
As Sebastian continued to fuck me harder and faster, a sensation was building up inside of me that made it hard to breathe and made every nerve in my body more sensitive than before. I knew I was going to come, but before I could say a word to him, Sebastian pulled out of me.
What the fuck?
“Flip over,” he ordered. I did just that. Sebastian propped himself over me, and I could see the mesmerizing green stare that I missed. I also saw the dampness of his messy hair and the rise and fall of his chest. He stared at me, probably analyzing the confused look on my face, and smiled.
“I want to see your face when you come,” he explained. “You’re going to come for me, Leslie?”
“Yes,” I managed to pant out. And it wasn’t a lie, because I knew there wasn’t a doubt in my mind I was so fucking close. So when he held my face with one hand, while guiding his manhood inside me again with his other hand, I had no choice but to look at him when I whimpered again, only this time his eyes never left mine; a sly grin appeared, knowing the effect he had on me. His rhythm was much slower this time and it drove me crazy. Every time he pushed himself deeper into me, he stared into my eyes the same way. My hands were on his hips, wordlessly begging him not to stop, and he didn’t stop. He only grew faster and faster until my legs shook so much I ended up wrapping them around his waist. My screams were amplified now, and he loved it; the smile he wore said it all. It was long until I not only came, but had my first orgasm—my legs were shaking, my heart was pounding, my muscles were convulsing and I felt currents running through me. Sebastian suffered a similar fate shortly after me, collapsing mildly on top of my chest after he climaxed. He had a very boyish and vulnerable look on his face when he came; a look I don’t see too often from him.
Sebastian rolled off of me and got up for the bathroom to take the condom off. I laid in the bed more exhausted than I remember being in a while. I also wondered how Sebastian felt about all of this and what it meant to him.
He came back and laid next to me. Out of habit, I covered my exposed breasts with the sheet, but he refused to have me covered.
“Your body is too beautiful to be covered up around me,” he told me before taking the sheet off of my chest. So I laid naked on him, despite us being sweaty and sticky. It didn’t matter much to us then.
It all makes sense now, why my ‘sacred garden’ is a little sensitive to contact right at the moment. But currently, Sebastian is eating me out on the kitchen island, and my moans are embarrassingly loud. It could be because I’m sensitive, but it also could be because Sebastian’s mouth has a mind of its own.
I’ll opt for the second reason.